Page:The Dramas of Aeschylus (Swanwick).djvu/424

354 On-gliding fate—so shall ye learn the end.

Yield to me, prithee yield, and grieve with him

Who now is wretched. Thus it is that grief

Ranging abroad alights on each in turn.

To no unwilling ears thy words

Appeal, Prometheus; and with nimble feet

Leaving our swiftly wafted seat

And holy ether, track of birds,

I to this rugged ground draw near;

Thy woes from first to last I fain would hear.

The goal of my long course I gain,

And come, Prometheus, to thy side.

This swift-winged bird without a bit I rein.

My will his only guide.

Compassion for thy fate, be sure, I feel;

Thereto the tie of kin constraineth me:

But blood apart, to no one would I deal

More honour than to thee.

That true my words thou soon shalt know;

No falsely glozing tongue is mine;

Come, how I may assist thee plainly show,

For than Oceanos a friend more leal

Thou ne'er shalt boast as thine.

Ha! What means this? Art thou too hither come